Self-Portrait

by G.J. Williams

Like the Buddha, I’m held together by the forces of electromagnetism.

Like Queen Nefertiti, I take approximately 20,000 breaths of air every single day.

Like Florence Nightingale, I talk at the rate of about 180 words a minute.

I walk like Shakespeare and make the same sound as Jesus when I laugh.

Who am I?

300 Miles of Obligation

by Nisha Kotecha

I rush to your bedside, secretly lamenting the things I will have to cancel. Important meetings, a long overdue haircut, a weekend away.

All it took was a call from the doctor. I probably would not have answered if it had come from you.

“I’m at work! Why are you calling?” I’ve complained countless times. Only blood and societal pressures compel us to come together. Christmas festivities have become quieter over the years as we have both chosen to endure endless silence to avoid any drama.

I rush to your bedside, not because I want to, but because I should.

So That’s Who You Are

by Mel Fawcett

There’s a young woman sitting next to me on the park bench. She’s been talking to me for ages, but I haven’t been listening to what she’s saying–I’ve been too busy wondering who she is. I’m getting annoyed by her incessant chatter.

I’ve been annoyed a lot lately. One day last week, when I went to the corner shop, I couldn’t remember how to get home and started haranguing passers-by until someone showed me the way.

Now, finally unable to take any more, I stand up to leave. The woman leans forward and says, “Where’re you going, Dad?”